Eighteen Candles
by Lexi-Nou
Summary: Beth, Booze and Birthday Cake One shot


"You look so pretty!" Maggie muses her eyes welling as she puts the finishing touches to her little sisters hair. Beth blushes the same shade as her red dress that she wears a little anxiously. She's not used to a colour so bright, or a dress so fancy. She's been wearing her jeans and shirts for so long that she's forgotten how it feels to have a breeze around her legs. It's her birthday and it's a present. Maggie had picked it up on the latest run along with some other celebratory items. _'It's your eighteenth birthday, you're not gonna get away with-out some kind of celebration'_ she had insisted and Beth was unable to refuse as everyone's face lit up at the idea of something to enjoy for a change.

"I feel funny." Beth states, her fingers smoothing over the silk. It's the grandest thing she's ever worn and probably ever will and truth be told it's all a little overwhelming.

"That's probably the rum." Her sister smirks motioning to the cup that Beth has been swallowing like water. She's not used to drinking and she thinks it might explain the giddy feeling in her stomach. She smiles she can't help it, it's wide and sloppy and makes Maggie laugh loudly.

"Come on, lets go celebrate!"

* * *

Eighteen candles on her cake. Carol's been saving ingredients for the last few weeks, the group going with out for this one occasion. She's touched, deep within her heart and her eyes water when she looks into the tiny dancing flames in front of her.

"You gotta make a wish," Carl pipes up, leaning on the cafeteria table propped up eagerly on the table. His mouth is watering at the moist sponge and she doesn't want to deny any of them any longer but when she looks to her side her father nods in an agreement. Beth winces. What does one wish for with the world like this? To live a long healthy life, when everyone else around you could die any second? To not have to worry about going hungry? To be able to sleep without nightmares? She decides and it's the most selfish wish she's ever made because she can't imagine going on without any one of these people beside her. She wishes not to be alone. Closing her eyes and exhaling hard she listens to their cheers as each flame extinguishes, leaving her standing there in the dark.

* * *

"Leavin' your own party?" She jumps thinking that she's outside alone. He's stood against the fence, cigarette to his lips, head to the ground with hair in his eyes, black boots kicking up dirt dressed in leather and Beth thinks that right there, right now, Daryl Dixon might be the hottest thing she's ever seen.

"They're all busy doin' whatever. They ain't even noticed I've gone." She tucks a golden curl behind her ear, her arms around her body as the night's wind rustles by.

"Eighteen." Daryl exclaims with a low whistle.

Her palms are sweating and her knees are weak and when she takes a step forward biting her bottom lip, she stumbles shamefully into his arms. "Woah!" He gasps fingers pressing into her bare shoulders as he steadies her and Beth decides that strapless dresses are the definitely the best as she feels the warmth of Daryl's touch against her skin. "No more drinks for you Kiddo."

Just like that she's seeing red, pulling herself away and falling clumsily into the fence.

"Could you not count the candles?" She hiccups loudly and unashamed making no attempt to excuse herself or her harsh remark. Daryl doesn't react just watches as she struggles to keep verticle. "I am not a kid any more!" Her finger wags out in front whilst her eyes roam wildly at the empty space around her.

"That so?" he's looking away and she thinks it's rude for him to be more interested in his smoke than she, when it is her birthday after all. It ruffles her, under her red dress, she's annoyed at him the stupid red neck with his stubble and scratches and biceps that –

"You didn't get me a present." She pouts and she doesn't know why her lips are pertruding and she's all doe eyed as he turns to her with raised eyebrows. "Maggie got me the dress, Carol the cake, Rick a book, Glenn some make- up, Carl…" she hiccups again as she tries to keep count on her freshly painted nails. "Carl… It's my birthday and you didn't get me a present." She reiterates when she realises that her memory is as hazy as her vision. Clambering herself along the fence towards him she struggles to keep her line straight. "It's rude. You're rude." She slurs slipping to the floor, laughing hysterically. Daryl sighs squatting down low and placing a hand over her glossed lips.

"Hush!" he demands with a stare so piercing that it silences her instantly, and when he warns her not to make a sound as he removes his hand, she simply sits there for a while open mouthed.

"It is my birthday." She says after a while her lashes fluttering like set of butterfly wings.

"Yeh, yer said." She's biting her lip, again, he notices and he wonders what it is about that girl and her lips but he's not wondering for long when she lunges forward, her hands at his collar trying to tug him towards her tiny frame.

"What the hell!" He pushes her back and stares in disbelief.

* * *

He's dealt with drunks enough to know that in time Beth Greene will be dead to the world, comatose by whatever concoction the others thought would be amusing to have her consume. He almost feels sorry for the girl when her face pales and she clutches her head.

"I don't feel too good." Her voice is meek and mild.

"You don't look it neither." His is deep and laughing. She stares up and it starts and he doesn't know how to stop it because once one tear falls, there comes another and it doesn't matter which way he looks or what words he tries to say they just keep on pouring like a busted tap.

"Maggie said I was pretty." She sniffles through heavy sobs and he wants to slap himself for being so God damn stupid. Eighteen but still a sweet, church going country girl who can't hold her liquor because she's never had a sip until now. She was innocent and pure and slowly all that is going.

"Fuck." He curses as she wipes at her eyes, black streaks smearing across her cheeks.

"You don't think I'm pretty. You think I'm ugly and stupid and, that's why," she stops coming up for breath before admitting in defeat "You won't kiss me." With her knees tucked in to her chest, her face in her hands she looks so small and broken. He shakes his head at the sorrowful sight and wants to shout for Maggie to get her ass out here and clear up the mess she made.

"Hey," reaching out he pulls her close, having seen her shiver, her skin turning blue. Tucked under his arm she nestles in. He's gonna have to wash his shirt as it starts to dampen under salt water. It doesn't take long for her to settle, it's the soothing stroke of his hand against her back that's done it but Daryl doesn't even realise, its subconscious this action of comfort. He's changing but he's not aware of it yet.

"It's not 'cause your ugly," Daryl begins when she's just lying on his lap staring up at the stars. She turns slowly blinking because any fast movements seems to make her want to hurl. "'Cause you ain't. And you ain't stupid neither." He adds and it makes her lips curl upwards at the corners. "You ever kissed a guy Greene?" she's burning at the question, at the fact that it's just her and him and he's looking down at her, his lips only inches away. He even licks them. "I mean a real kiss, not that teenage sucking face crap. One with meanin'." She thinks of Jimmy and summer and that time by the tree but she doesn't think that the sloppy feel of his braces against her bottom lip is really what Daryl Dixon means. She shakes her head. "Well then, you can't go wasting that kiss on a guy like me, 'cause it won't ever come around again. When it's gone, it's gone. You can't get firsts back, eighteen or not." Beth closes her eyes.

"Daryl?"

"Mhm."

"We ain't talkin bout kisses right?"

* * *

Someone has left the candles burning a way to light the way and he's grateful for it when he has to carry Beth's sleeping form back into the cells and lay her down to sleep. He sees Rick with Carl and Carol with Judith, Glenn and Maggie huddled close. Even Hershel has the good book tucked up under his arm as he sleeps. With a shake of his head he heads back down, the party remains spread out and scattered. He grabs a bottle and sits alone, letting it dance between his fingers. By the soft glow of the candles he sighs.

Daryl Dixon didn't kiss Beth Greene that night, the one after that or even the next but when he lowered his head down to the heat of the flames which sends a tingle against his lips, he breathes out slowly and half wishes that he did.


End file.
